


A Horse of Smoke

by Polomonkey



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, Episode: s02e07 The Witchfinder, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic Revealed, Tenderness, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-08-07 04:22:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16401239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polomonkey/pseuds/Polomonkey
Summary: Merlin is taken late at night for interrogation by the Witchfinder. What will Morgana and Arthur do to save him?





	1. Merlin

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so so so incredibly much to the very patient mods who were so kind after I missed deadline after deadline. And thank you so much for running this wonderful fest!  
> Also fills my 'corporal punishment' square on h/c bingo
> 
> I put graphic depictions of violence because there is torture in the first chapter, I don't know if it counts as graphic but I'm erring on the safe side!

There was a time when Merlin could have cried out, perhaps when he was dragged past Arthur’s chambers by the guards or even when he was in arms reach of the knights’ quarters, but he didn’t and once the door to Aredian’s interrogation room had shut, all hope of escape vanished.

He knelt on the floor, hands cuffed, and listened to the thump of his own heartbeat. He’d been in a haze of misery since they’d taken Gaius away, had even perhaps hoped to be confronted by Aredian again so he could tell the man exactly what he thought of him, but now the moment had come and his throat was dry with fear.

It was not an official summons, after all. Not at two candle-marks after midnight, when the whole castle was sleeping and no one was around to speak up for Merlin, if they even dared.

No one had spoken up for Gaius either.

Merlin expected questions, but the brutal slap to his face told him that even that veneer of legitimacy had been discarded now.

“Confess,” Aredian said, and his eyes were like ice.

“I’ve done nothing-” Merlin began and a backhand forced his face the other way, blood springing hot and sudden into his mouth.

“I know what you are,” Aredian said. “And you will confess.”

He leaned back against the table and regarded Merlin.

“You are not too stupid to note the late hour of this interrogation. No one knows you are here. No one is coming to assist you. You will break before sunrise and you will be executed alongside your sorcerous mentor and the only choice you have now is how much you suffer before then.”

The room spun. Merlin swallowed blood, felt his breath grow short. He’d been in trouble too many times to count since he’d arrived in Camelot, sometimes even mortal peril, but he’d never been so afraid as he was now. There were cold iron cuffs around his wrists, locking his magic away. There was nothing he could do to stop Aredian and no one here to help him.

He should have cried out on the way, before the cuffs had put paid to his last chance of escape, but at the time he’d been more scared that Arthur would hear his cry and do nothing, that the castle would turn away from him like they had from Gaius.

It was too late now. It was much too late.

 

***

 

“Count!” Aredian hissed and Merlin coughed, blood dripping down his chin.

“Eight,” he choked out and Aredian uncoiled his whip again.

Merlin had nearly lost consciousness after the fifth lash but Aredian had forced him awake, squeezing the torn flesh on his back until Merlin howled in agony. He was clinging onto the last reserves of his strength to not confess, to not condemn himself. But he was not strong enough to refuse to count, to keep up his defiance in the face of Aredian’s calculated torture.

The next blow sliced across his shoulders and Merlin whimpered in pain, his whole body aflame with agony.

“Count, sorcerer!”

“Nine,” Merlin sobbed, hanging limply from his bonds.

“One more,” Aredian said and Merlin would have begged had his throat not been so raw from shouting.

The last lash flicked round his bare torso, snapping at his stomach and leaving fire in its wake. Merlin’s knees gave out and had the cuffs round his wrists not been hooked to the ceiling, he would have fallen. As it was he swayed to the side, arms aching as they took his weight.

“Ten,” he all but whispered and a cold hand carded through his hair.  

“Now say thank you.”

Some small spark of resistance stirred in Merlin’s chest, sealing his lips tight. Until Aredian dragged his nail down the small of Merlin’s back and he was screaming his thanks to the air, in the fruitless hope that mercy would be shown.

 

***

 

He couldn’t think anymore. His entire world had narrowed to pain; from the bruises on his stomach to the shallow dagger cuts on his ribs. His clothes had been stripped away and he hung naked from his chains, numbed by the frigid air.

Aredian sat back on his chair, goblet in hand.

“I’m almost impressed,” he said conversationally. “I thought a slip of a thing like you would have broken hours ago.”

Merlin’s chin was touching his chest, he couldn’t raise it any higher. He felt hollowed out and empty, like he was barely even human anymore.

This was how it would end, after all he’d been through. No fulfilling his destiny, no bringing about the glory days of Camelot. No protecting Arthur.

Arthur. Merlin ached for him. Not for rescue, not now, but just to see his face one last time. But he would die in this room or he would die on the pyre and either way Arthur would remember him as nothing but a traitor.

He shut his eyes, weariness overwhelming him, and a hand pinched cruelly at his nipple.

“I’m not finished with you,” Aredian said softly. “We’ve an hour still before dawn.”

“I can’t,” Merlin whimpered. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t-”

“Quiet. I care nothing for the pleas of sorcerers. Unless it’s a confession you wish to make?”

Would it be so bad? He would surely die here otherwise, and Aredian would most likely claim he confessed anyway. This way he could see his friends one last time; perhaps share a cell with Gaius, have Gwen and Morgana visit to say goodbye...

But Arthur would hate him.

Merlin turned his head away.

Aredian hissed through his teeth, snake like.

“Very well.”

The dagger was back in his hand.

Merlin shut his eyes. He did not wish to see death coming.

 


	2. Morgana

It was nearly dawn when Morgana woke from a fitful sleep, nightmares of Gaius on the pyre making her skin damp and her body tremble. How could Uther be so blind to what Aredian was? How could he allow his oldest friend to suffer like this?

And what would he do to Morgana if she was the next accused?

The fear was almost paralysing. Morgana was so tired of being afraid. Ever since she'd felt her powers manifest, she hadn't known a day of peace. Her nights were sleepless and her waking hours were plagued by the terror of discovery. She longed to confide in someone, in Gwen or Merlin, or even in Arthur. But she couldn't implicate Gwen or Merlin, make them keep her shameful secret, and Arthur... Arthur was Uther's son. How deep that bond ran she didn't know, but he hadn't stopped the King condemning Gaius to death. She could not trust he would speak for her life either.

Thinking of Gaius’ sentence made her want to weep, but there had been too much weeping recently. She would rather take action. She rose and dressed herself quickly, intent on slipping unseen through the castle to Gaius’ chambers. Merlin would do anything for his mentor. Perhaps between them they might plot a way to save Gaius yet.

But when she arrived at the chambers, Merlin wasn’t there.

There might have been an innocent explanation but the prickle of foreboding at the back of Morgana’s neck said otherwise. She hurried back down the corridor, her feet leading the way. It was only when she stood outside Arthur’s room that she realised where she had been going.

Arthur hadn’t stopped Aredian taking Gaius away. But Merlin… she saw the way he looked at Merlin. He would never let this happen.

She didn’t bother to knock, simply slipped inside and called his name from across the room. He woke in a tumult of movement, snatching up his dagger from under the pillow before he recognised her face and sank back down, breathing heavily.

“What the hell are you doing, Morgana?”

“Aredian has Merlin,” she said, voice sure and steady. She wanted to scream and shout but it wasn’t the time, she knew from bitter experience how easily women at court were dismissed as hysterical.

“What?”

Arthur was already half out of bed, reaching for his breeches. She did not avert her eyes despite his partial state of undress; propriety felt entirely unimportant at that moment.

“Merlin’s not in his chambers.”

“He could be anywhere,” Arthur said, though he didn’t stop dressing.

“Aredian has him. I know it,” she said simply.

There was a pause while Arthur searched her face. Then he nodded.

“We’ll go to Aredian’s interrogation room. If we’re wrong… I will think of some excuse.”

It wouldn’t help, Morgana knew, if they were wrong then Aredian would have more cause to suspect her than before. But she didn’t care about herself. Merlin would not suffer at the hands of this monster, and nor would she anymore if tonight went to plan.

Arthur did not notice her slip his dagger into her pocket as they left the room.

 

***

 

There was light flickering from under the interrogation room door but no sound could be heard. Morgana strained to listen in the darkness at Arthur’s side. Was that a muffled sob? Or just her imagination running wild?

Arthur looked at her and she willed him not to back down, not to stumble at this final hurdle. Perhaps her expression gave him conviction because he nodded at her and then reached out to smartly rap his knuckles on the door.

He motioned for her to step back and she withdrew into the shadows. She slipped her hand into her pocket and felt the cool blade of the dagger against her fingertips.

Several long seconds later, the door opened a crack.

“My Lord?” Aredian said, with only the faintest inclination of his head.

“Aredian, my apologies for disturbing you at this early hour,” Arthur said smoothly. “I seem to have misplaced my manservant and I wondered if you’d brought him in for further questioning.”

Aredian raised an eyebrow.

“If I had, I believe that would be my right as the King’s appointed Witchfinder.”

“Certainly,” Arthur said, and Morgana could see the tightness of his jaw, how hard he was working to stay calm. “But I would appreciate being kept apprised of his whereabouts. If only because I’ll need someone else to serve me breakfast.”

Aredian smiled then, coldly.

“You speak to good purpose. I will be blunt with you therefore: I have discovered your servant to be the physician’s accomplice in all things sorcerous and profane. He is on the brink of confessing his crimes to me and will join his master on the pyre thereafter. I am sorry that you have kept such close company with such people, and advise you to pick your next servant with better care.”

Morgana’s hand clenched around the dagger hilt.

“What evidence do you have?” Arthur asked in a low voice.

“My evidence will be shared foremost with the King, and you may be assured he will find it compelling,” Aredian said.

“Merlin is not a sorcerer.”

“Treachery hides in the most innocuous of places, young Pendragon,” Aredian said with a sneer. “Would that you be less blind to it in the future.”

He made to close the door but Arthur’s arm held it open.

“I will speak with my servant.”

“You will not.”

Morgana saw the exact moment Arthur lost his tenuous grip on his composure and she was already rushing forward to help push as he forced the door open. Aredian fell back in surprise, sprawling onto the floor, and then they were inside the room.

It took Morgana’s eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light within and then she almost wished she could not see.

Merlin was suspended from a hook on the ceiling, toes barely touching the floor. He was naked and covered in blood; his chest, his back, his thighs, his arms. What wasn’t bloodied was bruised and there was a thick leather gag shoved into his mouth. His eyes were half lidded, gaze unfocussed, as though he no longer knew where he was.

She turned to Arthur and watched the colour drain from his face. Then he let out a bellow of pure rage and turned on Aredian, who was scrambling to his feet.

“I’ll kill you!”

Aredian looked almost shaken for once, though he still managed a sneer.

“For dispensing justice? I act only upon the King’s orders.”

Arthur made an enraged move towards him and Aredian bolted for the door. Arthur made to follow but Morgana caught him bodily, pushing him back.

“No! Merlin needs you!”

“Aredian-”

“Is going to the King. I will follow. I will plead with Uther, tell him of Aredian’s wrongs. You know how he listens to me more than you.”

Arthur was still straining towards the door but Morgana could tell something in what she said was getting through to him.

“If he doesn’t believe you-”

“Then I will have bought us time, Arthur. For you to get Merlin away from the castle.”

She held up her hands in a gesture of supplication, hunched down in her robe a little in the hope of looking smaller.

“I’m not strong enough to lift him. Please Arthur, you have to help him.”

Arthur sagged then, heaving a ragged breath.

“Alright,” he said at last. “Go.”

“If it doesn’t work, I’ll send a guard from the council room with the message ‘dove’. You may take that as a sign to get Merlin away.”

Arthur nodded and she slipped through the door before he could change his mind. She took one last look back at Merlin’s battered, broken body and let the rage course through her. This ended now.

 

***

 

Aredian had not gone straight to Uther, as Morgana had known he would not. He was in his chambers, gathering his things. A man like that always had a back-up plan, was prepared for Uther’s judgment not to go his way. If the tide turned against him, he would be gone from Camelot by noon.

She strode in, not bothering to announce her presence. He turned with some trepidation, then relaxed to see who it was.

“Come to plead the servant’s case, Lady Morgana? I thought it quite beneath you.”

“Merlin is not a sorcerer,” she said very calmly.

“And you would know, would you?”

“Yes,” she said, and took a deep, clear breath, drawing herself up to her full height. “Because I am one.”

Every candle in the room burst into flame.

Aredian’s mouth dropped open. For all his questioning, she knew he’d never truly suspected her. It was almost funny, how Aredian only targeted the non-magical. He had no idea what it meant to come up against someone who had the powers he so feared.

He would now.

“Is that a confession?” he said, hand lingering on the sword at his waist.

“Yes,” Morgana said. “But you’ll be the only one to ever hear it.”

Aredian’s face twisted and he drew his sword.

“Don’t make threats, little girl. You can come quietly to the cells or I can run you through right here.”

He had recovered from the shock; his demeanour was almost gleeful now.

“Magic, right at the heart of Camelot. Whatever will the King say?”

His face took on a hungry look.

“And how will he reward me for bringing his own ward to justice?”

“There will be justice tonight,” Morgana said quietly. “But it won’t come from you.”

She pulled the dagger from her pocket. Aredian laughed.

“That tiny thing against my sword? Me, a Witchfinder with years of battle and strife behind me, and you, a pampered lady of the court with a few household tricks up her sleeve?”

He smiled, lazy like a predator.

“Come now, Morgana. Put that thing away and come quietly to the cells. You needn’t fear me now you’ve confessed; there’ll be no need for extra measures as there was for the boy.”

“ _The boy_ is my friend,” Morgana said, slow and clear. “And you should not have harmed him.”

She levitated the dagger in front of her and the smile fell off Aredian’s face. She knew not where the magic came from, or how she could control it so well, but it seemed to take its strength from anger and pain, and there was a bottomless well of that inside her. In Aredian’s face she saw the features of every man who’d ever tried to control or threaten her, to restrict her life or govern her actions, to hurt her friends and to make her afraid.

No more. Her magic was not a curse. It was a gift. It was her birth right. And by the gods she would defend herself with it.

“Little girl-” Aredian said and she plunged the dagger into his heart.

It took an age for him to die. She watched, thinking about Gaius in the cells. About Merlin slick with blood in a torture chamber. About Gwen’s face when her father was killed. And about herself, gripped by nightmares, drowning in fear each and every second.

There would be an end to all that now. She watched Aredian breathe his last and then pulled the dagger out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recent events in America may have somewhat influenced Morgana's rage in this chapter... comfort for Merlin coming in the next chapter!


	3. Arthur

There was so much blood. Arthur stood paralysed for a moment as the door clicked shut behind Morgana, staring at Merlin’s still form.

Then adrenaline kicked in and he was across the room in three steps, pulling the leather gag from Merlin’s mouth.

“Merlin, it’s me. You’re safe now. I’m going to help you.”

Merlin barely reacted. He was staring into space, eyes blank, and fear seized Arthur’s gut. Was he already too far gone to bring back?

“Merlin, can you hear me?”

No reply. Arthur swallowed his panic and reached out to Merlin’s side, ready to lift him free of the ceiling hook. Then he stopped. Merlin’s body was slick with blood ( _so much, oh gods_ ) and might slip in Arthur’s grip. If Arthur overbalanced and they both fell, Merlin would be even more hurt than he already was.

He needed help. Mind racing, Arthur discarded several options before lighting on Leon. He was loyal to the King, true, but he was loyal to Arthur first. They’d grown up together. And his sense of honour would be outraged by the sight before Arthur.

“I need some help to get you down, Merlin,” Arthur said with all the calm he didn’t feel. “I’ll be back soon, I’m not leaving you.”

He grabbed the cushion from Aredian’s chair and eased it under Merlin’s feet so he was at least somewhat supported. It still felt like agony to walk away but time was of the essence. Bolting out of the room, Arthur sprinted down the hall until he collared two passing guards.

“You, go and wake Sir Leon and bring him back here immediately,” he barked at one before turning to the other. “And you, go to the kitchen and bring back some heated water and clean cloths.”

The guards seemed to sense the urgency in his tone because they departed quickly. Arthur returned to the interrogation room as fast as his feet would carry him. For one horrible moment the thought crossed his mind that Merlin might have succumbed to his injuries – but when he sped across the room he caught the rise and fall of Merlin’s chest and nearly sobbed in relief.

“I’m back, Merlin, I told you I wouldn’t leave,” he said softly. “Help is on the way.”

He forced himself to take stock of the wounds on Merlin’s body; to make a warrior’s assessment of the damage. It did not take long to see through his panic to the fact that Merlin’s life was in no immediate danger. The cuts were numerous and bloody, but they were shallow, some already clotting. Arthur turned to Merlin’s back and swallowed bile as he recognised the markings of a whip. They were not life threatening either, as long as kept clean to prevent infection, but they had no doubt felt like fire against Merlin’s tender flesh. Arthur's vision blurred and he shook his head fiercely, for tears were of no use to Merlin now.

He stroked his friend’s side instead, careful to touch only unbroken skin, and muttered soothing words of rescue and comfort and rest. Merlin only responded with intermittent whimpers of pain, eyelids fluttering. But he did not flinch from Arthur’s touch and that at least was something.

After a few minutes Arthur heard footsteps in the hall and hastened out to see the guard and a servant carrying two large bowls of water and several cloths.

“In here,” he said and then changed his mind almost immediately. He didn’t want Merlin to spend a second longer in that torture chamber.

“No, actually, next door. Hurry!”

It was an unused bedroom, small but clean and fit for purpose. It had a lock on the door, too, should Arthur need to stall later.

There was no word from Morgana yet, either good or bad.

No time for that. Arthur directed the guard and servant inside and then bid them go. As their footsteps died away he heard another set approaching and gave silent thanks to see Leon coming towards him.

“My lord, what’s happened?”

“The Witchfinder tortured Merlin,” Arthur said brusquely, lacking the time to soften the blow. “I need your help lifting him.”

To his immeasurable relief Leon asked no questions, simply followed Arthur into the room. The knight bit back what sounded like a curse at the sight of Merlin.

“What can I do?” he said instantly and Arthur knew his choice of assistant had been the correct one.

“Hold his legs up and I’ll unhook his hands at the top,” Arthur instructed gratefully. Then, quieter, to Merlin: “Leon’s here. We’re going to get you down now.”

Arthur would later wake from nightmares about the feel of Merlin’s blood under his hands, the way his servant flopped lifelessly onto Arthur as his cuffs were unhooked, as though he were a piece of meat on a butcher’s rack. But he was down and they had him and it took less than a minute to bring him to the bed in the adjacent room, to lay him down as gently as they were able and stand back to judge the damage.

The hateful cuffs still bound Merlin’s hands together and Arthur swore, stalking back next door and pacing the room until he spotted a ring of keys on the desk. He returned to the bedroom and fitted several to the lock, increasingly desperate until one clicked and the cuffs sprang free. Arthur tossed them aside and set to massaging Merlin’s wrists.  Perhaps it was his imagination but Merlin almost seemed instantly better for the loss of them, his pallid face taking on a hint of colour. His eyes had closed, in exhaustion rather than unconsciousness Arthur judged, and maybe that was for the best. They had work to do now and it would be painful to stay awake through.

“Is Aredian-” Leon began at his side and Arthur cut him off, because Morgana had not sent word and all they could do was make Merlin as ready for transportation as possible, if the worst occurred.

“We have to clean his wounds,” he said and Leon asked no more, simply dipped a cloth in the warm water and watched as Arthur did the same.

It took an age. Arthur had been right in his assessment, the cuts were superficial and not life threatening, but there were so many of them. So many small reminders of Aredian’s towering cruelty, carved into his sweet Merlin’s flesh. Not to mention the abraded skin around his wrists where the cuffs had cut in, or the numerous bruises that Arthur surmised, with a jolt of white hot rage, to be the work of Aredian’s boot or fist.

When they were nearing an end he sent Leon to Gaius’ chambers to bring back bandages, and whatever ointments and medicines he recognised that might help. Leon returned with a paste he’d seen used on wounds before and together they carefully turned Merlin on his front and smeared it on the lashes the whip had inflicted. Arthur’s hands were shaking too much to be of help with the bandages but Leon worked steadily until Merlin’s torso was swathed in white.

Beyond the bandages Merlin was still naked and Arthur felt a sudden horrible guilt for the continued loss of his dignity amongst everything else. He pulled the blanket protectively over Merlin’s body and asked Leon to fetch some of Arthur’s clothes from his chambers, the smaller ones at the back of his drawers.

It was only a minute after Leon had gone that the door reopened. It was Morgana.

“What news?” he said.

She just stood there a moment, gaze fixed on Arthur.

“Morgana!” he said urgently. “Is Aredian coming?”

“No,” she said and it was then he noticed the blood on her dress.

“What happened?” he asked, stomach already churning.

“Aredian’s dead, Arthur,” Morgana said, her voice eerily calm.

Arthur frowned, hope mingling with disbelief.

“How?”

“I killed him.”

For a moment Arthur froze in place, cursing himself with every fibre of his being.

“He attacked you,” he said heavily. “I should never have let you go alone.”

His eyes searched her body for injuries even as he spoke, trying not to let the panic he felt show on his face. It was clear now she must be in shock. What horrors had Aredian inflicted on her that she’d had no choice but to kill him?

“It’s alright,” he said, touching her arm gently. “It was self-defence. He attacked you, you did what you had to.”

“He didn’t attack me, Arthur.”

Arthur stilled at the sound of her voice. There was a note to it he’d never heard before, but it was not one of fear. Her hands were steady and her eyes were dry.

“I killed him because he hurt Merlin and Gaius. I killed him because he was wicked and I could expect no other justice for him than what I meted out.”

She took a breath.

“But it was self-defence in a way. Because he was a Witchfinder and… and I have magic.”

Arthur dropped her arm like it was made of flames.

“No you don’t,” he said, voice shaky. “Morgana, stop this foolishness now, you don’t know what you’re say-”

The words died on his lips. Morgana’s eyes were glowing gold, her hand raised. Slowly he turned to see a candlestick floating in the air, as if held up by invisible strings.

Arthur sat down with a thump. He felt dizzy and sick, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts at once.

He half expected her to bring the candlestick down on his head, so unlike this Morgana was from the girl he had known before. But she simply lowered it back to the table. The gold faded from her eyes and for a long moment they just looked at each other.

“Why would you learn magic?” Arthur said when he could trust his voice again.

“I didn’t,” Morgana said quietly. “I did nothing to invite this. My nightmares… they’re visions, Arthur. Visions of things to come. And the more I ignore them, the more my magic leaks out in other ways.”

She looked down at her hand, as if it had become strange to her somehow.

“I learnt no spell to float things yet I found today my magic knows what to do.” Her voice took on a note of wonder. “There is much we don’t know of magic, much we’ve never been told. I believe… I believe there could be goodness in it.”

When she looked up again, her eyes were flashing.

“I didn’t invite it but I’m no longer ashamed of using it. I’m not sorry I killed Aredian, Arthur. I’m not sorry at all.”

Her head was held high, and she was not the woman Arthur had known, could never be again, she was a stranger to him now… and yet. The jut of her chin was so familiar. The resolve in her voice, the steel in her eye. He had seen her like this a hundred times before, when she spoke up for the rights of a maid or servant, or spoke out against Uther’s proclamations.

The same but different. Unrecognisable, but he knew her well.

“What if it corrupts you?” he said, voice small.

“What if killing on Uther’s orders corrupts you?” she said, and it was less a retort than it was a plea.

Arthur bit his lip, remembering the raid on the druid camp and how he’d crept into Morgana’s bed and cried all night long after, afraid of what he was becoming. She had comforted him then, told him one day he’d be free to make his own choices and she knew he’d make the right ones.

He had a choice now.

He rose from his chair and walked towards her. She stood her ground, only the slight tremor in her hand giving away any hint of fear.

Arthur took her in his arms.

She was stiff a moment and then she relaxed against him, letting herself be held.

“Thank you for protecting Merlin,” he whispered in her ear and she buried her face in his neck, breathing in and out.

Then they parted and turned to the bed as one, watching the shallow rise and fall of Merlin’s chest.

“What do we tell the king?” Arthur said, the problem of Aredian coming sharply back into focus.

“Exactly what you believed,” Morgana said readily. “He attacked me when we discovered his torture of Merlin. He was crazed, gone beyond all reason. You killed him to save me.”

“Will he believe that?”

“I can spin a good yarn,” Morgana said with a tired smile and Arthur thought of how often she’d been forced to lie of late, for fear her secret might be discovered.

She was right. Uther would praise Arthur for his actions, his quick defence of Morgana’s defenceless self. His father would never understand who Morgana really was, or what she could really do.

Neither did Arthur, wholly, but he had learned a little more tonight.

He nodded his agreement.

“Leon’s been helping with Merlin, he’ll be back shortly. If we convince Uther quickly we can get Gaius up from the dungeons. He might be too weak to do much but he can tell us how to aid Merlin.”

“Yes, good.”

They paused for a moment, caught in the enormity of all that had happened. Morgana looked so exhausted, so pale and drawn and yet so determined that Arthur was filled with a rush of love for her.

“Don’t think you can cheat at cards,” he said suddenly.

“What?”

“Don’t think you can use magic to cheat at cards. I’ll be watching.”

She looked startled a moment then a half smile tugged at her lips.

“I don’t need magic to beat you at cards, Arthur dear.”

“I suppose you’ve never needed magic to cheat before, either.”

“Hey!”

He knocked his hand against hers and she held it a second, interlacing their fingers.

Then a creak sounded in the corridor, heralding Leon’s return.

“Ready?” he said and she nodded.

“Ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear this was meant to be the end but Merlin selfishly wanted a little chapter of his own to get some comfort and who was I to say no?


	4. Merlin

There was pain, still, but it was nothing like before. That had been agony, bright and sharp and unavoidable, but this was more a dull ache. He felt cushioned, a soft barrier between him and the worst of it.

That was Merlin's first waking thought, and his second was of the pyre.

“Gaius,” he said, eyes snapping open, and a voice to his left hushed him.

“He’s sleeping, Merlin. In his own bed. He’s fine.”

“How?” Merlin said, trying to see the source of the voice. Everything was blurry but slowly his eyes began to focus and Arthur swam into view.

“The King ordered his release,” Arthur said gently. “He was up and tending to you before we made him get some rest.”

Released? Merlin struggled to take it in. Did that mean…

“Aredian,” he croaked out and even the name sent a wave of muted terror through him.

“He’s dead,” came another voice, and he turned to see Morgana sat on his right. “He can’t hurt you anymore.”

Tears welled up in Merlin’s eyes and he blinked, trying to make sense of it all, to put the pieces of what happened together.

“I was chained up,” he whispered and Morgana’s face crumpled.

“Yes,” she said, voice a little shaky. “He was interrogating you.”

The whip. The dagger, the stick, the feel of Aredian’s gloved fist raining blows down on his body. Merlin shut his eyes, memories overwhelming him.

Being naked. Being alone. His back on fire, his chest sliced open, his wrists raw. So much fear. So much pain.

“Easy, Merlin, easy.”

Arthur’s hand stroked through his hair. Merlin shook and wept and tried to let the warmth of Arthur’s skin ground him.

“You came for me,” he managed at last. “Both of you.”

“Yes we did.”

Strong arms around his waist. Warm water on his wounds. Bandages and medicine and being carried through the castle walls until he was home again.

“Thank you,” Merlin said, opening his eyes. Two faces smiled back at him.

"Aredian's dead?" he said, wanting to hear it again. A part of him couldn't believe that he was safe now; that the Witchfinder wouldn't come again to finish what he'd started. Merlin shivered involuntarily and Arthur reached out to tuck the blanket a little tighter around him.

"I promise you. We've seen his body."

"How?"

A glance passed between him and Morgana. Then Arthur nodded and Morgana let out a quiet exhale.

"It was at my hands, Merlin. I will explain all when you're feeling better."

"You?"

Merlin struggled to sit up and promptly winced in pain, his ribs jarring.

"Lie back," Arthur said with concern in his voice, gently pushing Merlin down by the shoulders. "Gaius will have my neck if you injure yourself further."

"But Morgana, you... he threatened to go after you, I should have stopped him, I should have done something-"

It was unbearable, the idea that what he'd sacrificed to Aredian hadn't been enough to save his friend from the man's attentions. Merlin would hate himself forever if Morgana had been hurt.

"He didn't come after me, Merlin," Morgana said, forehead creasing. "I went after him."

"Why?"

She didn't answer.

"Why?" he asked again.

"I'm not sure this is the time," Arthur said cautiously.

"He's right, Merlin, you're unwell and-"

"Please, Morgana!"

He held her gaze, eyes beseeching. The last few hours were already lost to him, he didn't want to be kept in the dark about anything else.

"If you're sure..." 

"Morgana!" Arthur said, sounding alarmed. "It's rather a big conversation to spring on-"

"He already knows, Arthur," Morgana said with a sigh. "About my magic."

At any other time, Merlin might have found the expression of outrage on Arthur's face funny.

"He knew before me?"

"Oh for heaven's sake, you're not jealous, are you?"

"No I am not jealous, I just think it's a bit much you confide in _Mer_ lin over me-"

"He was in the right place at the right time Arthur, it's not as though I planned-"

"After all these years together and then you go and tell someone you've only known for-"

"Cannot believe you're making such a fuss about this-"

"Ahem."

Merlin didn't really want to sit through yet another Pendragon family word war, not when he had so many questions still to ask.

"What happened to Aredian?" he said and that drew their attention back to him, their faces serious again.

"I followed him," Morgana said, biting her lip. "After... after we found you. We exchanged words, I revealed my magic to him... and then I killed him."

Merlin digested this, thinking about what Aredian signified, and how she must have feared his eyes falling upon her. She had done what was best for all of them and she had saved Gaius from his certain fate.

"You were brave," he said at last and Morgana's lip trembled.

"I'm sorry I didn't get there sooner," she said tearfully.

"As am I," Arthur said, and his eyes were also bright.

Curiously, Merlin found a smile spreading across his face.

"You found me in time," he said, a great rush of love for them both welling up inside him. Healing from the night's events would not be easy, he knew that. But he had the two of them to support him through it, and that had to be worth a great deal.

A yawn overtook him and Arthur immediately switched into bossy mode.

"You're to take this tincture now and get some sleep."

"But I have more questions," Merlin protested.

"And they'll keep till tomorrow," Arthur said sternly, sounding rather irresistibly like Gaius talking to one of his more reluctant patients.

Morgana went to fetch another blanket while Arthur helped Merlin sit up a little. He fed Merlin the tincture, propping him up with one strong arm. It burned going down and Merlin coughed a little. Arthur stroked his back until he subsided and then, so quickly he almost missed it, brushed a brief kiss against his cheek.

Merlin turned in surprise and Arthur's eyes met his, warm and affectionate and unmistakably hopeful.

"I came too close to losing you," he murmured.

Merlin had no words to say so he just nuzzled into Arthur's neck, his heart singing.

They stayed like that, breathing each other in, until Morgana reappeared and they had to draw apart; though for the glint in her eye perhaps they needn't have bothered.

Then Merlin was being tucked back in up to his chin, with both of them vowing to keep watch until Gaius woke.

Merlin couldn't quite give in to oblivion yet though.

"I have to tell you something," he said sleepily. "Both of you."

There was a strange feeling inside him and he understood all at once what it was. It was the absence of fear. He was going to tell the truth about his magic.

He was going to tell the truth about his magic and he wasn't afraid. Because he and Morgana could finally be honest with each other. Find spells together and practice incantations and share the joy that their gift could bring.

Because Arthur would be cross and fret and upbraid Merlin for putting himself in danger, but he wouldn't hate him. He wouldn't condemn him.

And the three of them could work together.

“I have to tell you something,” he said again and Morgana hushed him softly.

“Right now you need to rest,” she said, smoothing back his hair.

"You can tell us when you wake," Arthur said, voice soft.

"I will," Merlin promised, eyes slipping shut. "I will..."

He felt Morgana take his hand on one side and Arthur on the other. And he fell asleep like that, his hands warm in theirs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


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